


Heroes of Justice Sleep on the Floor

by daphnerunning, Galiko



Series: Oddballs in Love [4]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Frottage, Happy Family Ryuseitai, M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galiko/pseuds/Galiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hopefully the warmth of his body will radiate, and some of the heat will get through to the chill in Kanata's core. “Then we’ll make you a new land family,” Chiaki promises, heading up the hill to his house. “It’s a promise, from Morisawa Chiaki. You won’t have to be sad anymore. I’ll smile as an example for you.”</p><p>For pulling a drowning stranger from the ocean, a wish is customary repayment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroes of Justice Sleep on the Floor

**Author's Note:**

> In light of the current event, some cute and fluffy married-style Kanata and Chiaki is necessary!

Storm clouds roil over the beach, the sky opens, and typhoon season begins.

 

Fat drops pour down onto the sand, sending tiny particles jumping at first, then back to earth darker, sodden with rain. The few patrons still sunning take off, grabbing umbrellas and drinks, heading for cars at top speed.

 

All but one.

 

Morisawa Chiaki closes his eyes when the rain begins, letting it drop and spill over his face. He should get up, should start walking back to his house...but that sounds like a lot of work when all that’s waiting for him at home is his life. 

 

Water laps at his toes as the tide starts to come in. Chiaki doesn’t open his eyes. Bitter sadness rushes at the back of his throat for what feels like no reason, and the thought of letting the ocean wash over him until it takes him out to see is appealing. He’d drift for ages, maybe, or the sharks would get him, and soon there would be nothing left of Morisawa Chiaki, first-year disappointment. He wouldn’t have to go to school in the morning, wouldn’t have to see his family tonight, wouldn’t have to explain to his teachers that even if he’d wanted to do his homework he just _hadn’t_ , for no reason he can adequately put into words. 

 

The pressure feels like a physical weight, pressing down on him until he can hardly breathe. He rolls over, right as a wave rushes over him, leaving him sputtering in the salt water. He tries to stand, but another crashes down, just as thunder rolls overhead. Rainwater and seawater mix on his face, and the sand rushes out from under his flailing feet, until he’s grabbing frantically at the sand, the instinct to live outweighing even the desperate depression that had sent him to lay on the sand for the last nine hours. 

 

He opens his mouth to call for help, but water rushes in, leaving him coughing, choking for breath as his legs flail out from under him. _This would never happen to a Hero_ , he thinks wildly, as his vision starts to go dark. 

 

Then his hand strikes something hard, and he grabs for it. Much to his surprise, it moves weakly, giving him his bearings, and his foot strikes sand.

 

He coughs up water, the storm lashing around him, and grips tight to the wrist of the other person, yanking them close. “Oi,” he yells hoarsely, fighting against the riptide and the waves all at once, heels digging into the shifting sand, trying to blink the salt out of his eyes to see if the person is even alive. “Can you--hold on, I’ve got you!”

 

A wave crashes over them, violent and fast, and it’s enough to force them towards the shore, tossing them down into the shallows and gritty sand. The hands that cling to Chiaki’s arm are pale and long-fingered, with nails strangely long, and hitting the sand makes their owner gasp, kicking, flailing, crawling further onto shore. 

 

Dripping wet, covered in sand, and completely naked, the boy looks up with glassy, wary green eyes, his mop of blue hair plastered down even further as the sky opens up, sending pelting rain pouring down onto them. “You,” he coughs, chest heaving from the effort, “ _saved_ me.” 

 

Chiaki stares into those odd, swirling eyes for a long minute, mouth opening and closing a few times. The person in front of him is lovely, not to mention naked, and he darts a quick glance down--yep, male. 

 

That’s enough to jolt him into action, and he struggles up from the sand, pulling the boy’s arm around his shoulders. “Lean on me,” he says raggedly, fighting the urge to cough again until the last of the salt stops burning his throat. The boy is cool to the touch and somehow even wetter than himself, as if the water is coming from his skin rather than off of it. “There’s a place nearby, we’ll be safe from the storm.” 

 

As if to echo his words, thunder booms overhead, and Chiaki takes off running, half-carrying the odd boy (who might even be a little taller than him, though not so muscular). 

 

Being pulled from the sea is one thing--being carried away from it another. The urge to drag himself back into the water is a strong one, but he’s not much of a match for this _human_ hauling him to his feet, practically scooping him off of them, and carrying him away.

 

The rain stings, fresh and not at all salty, and as a dead weight in Chiaki’s arms, the boy struggles, flopping rather like a fish. Fortunately the protest is a weak one, and doesn’t result in much. The old, dilapidated lighthouse that he’s dragged into is just off the shore, and as the tide goes out, it’s less of a threat that the water is coming for them... _sadly._ “I want,” he murmurs, pawing listlessly at the air, reaching towards the ocean, “to go back.” 

 

Chiaki tugs the old lighthouse door shut, and the sound of the wind dies to an eerie whistle instead of a thunderous roar. Then he settles on the wood-paneled floor, chest heaving from the exertion of carrying the other boy, and he flops back onto his hands. “Me too,” he rasps, shaking the water out of his hair. “That tide came in fast, huh? I thought you were a goner!”

 

Wide green eyes stare back at Chiaki as he flops down on the ground. “But...I’ve always been in the sea,” he says sadly. “Now I can’t be. Who are you?” he quickly changes subject, crawling forward on his hands and knees to end up within a centimeter of Chiaki’s face. Water drips down from his hair, splattering onto the floor. “You pulled me out. I need to know.” 

 

“Morisawa Chiaki,” Chiaki says, startled into answering. There’s an intensity to the boy that burns away the heavy fog that always hangs around his head, and he blinks up. “Were you in there on purpose?”

 

“Mm. Were you?” His head cocks, and water trails down his face that he doesn’t even try to blink away. “Humans don’t fare well in the ocean...you could have drowned...” 

 

“Yeah.” Chiaki’s face is a blank mask for a moment. The lure of the ocean had been so strong, the desire to stop existing so tempting...

 

But the boy is looking at him like he expects something, and he can’t set that kind of example. Instead, he forces a smile onto his face, and shrugs. “The sea has always been pretty kind to me, you know?”

 

“Ahh...I see, I see...mmn, the sea must like you, bubbling, bubbling...” He hums, rocking backwards, then forwards again. “I’m called Kanata. Shinkai Kanata. Are all humans as warm as you?” he asked curiously, planting one long-fingered hand onto Chiaki’s chest. 

 

“I haven’t touched all humans,” Chiaki says honestly. “But I’m warmer than most, I think?” The boy’s hand is cool to the touch, but pleasantly so, like a shady place on a warm day. 

 

Kanata nods contemplatively. “Good,” he murmurs. “I like that...especially because you’re the one that pulled me from the sea, Morisawa Chiaki.” He rocks back, heaving a sigh. “There’s nothing to be done...” he sadly adds. “I have to be on land now.”

 

Whether he’s understanding well or not, Chiaki is pretty sure he understands the sentiment. Touch helps him, sometimes, when he’s feeling sad, so he scoots closer, resting his hands on Kanata’s cool, wet shoulders. “Breathing air feels hard, sometimes,” he agrees quietly. “Like it’s weighing you down, even if it’s light?”

 

Chiaki’s hands are _warm_ , like the entire temperature in the room raises several degrees. It’s nothing like the cold of the ocean or the storm tossing and teeming outside, but it’s still...agreeable. Good, if it’s this human. Kanata wonders if that makes him a fool, when every other human has been so terrible, but...

 

“I...am not good at air,” he admits, a quiet laugh following, and he reaches out, grabbing for Chiaki’s face, careful not to let his nails scratch against his skin when his fingers curl against his cheeks. “That’s why the sea is so good. You understand, right? Ahh...I bet all my friends would like you, especially when you smile...” 

 

_“Chia-chan, you’d make so many friends if you’d only smile!”_ says Chiaki’s mother in his memory, worry lines between her brows. She’d patted his cheeks, and assured him, _“Then you’d have friends even if you’re loud, even in summer. Try smiling, sweetheart.”_

 

This feels incredibly different from his mother touching his face. Kanata’s long fingers are cool and long-nailed, and Chiaki shivers, but shifts closer. “I’m not surprised you have a lot of friends. You’ve got such a sweet face, you know?” Kanata’s mother probably never worries that he doesn’t have enough friends.

 

 

Kanata’s head tilts, and his fingers slide up to pet Chiaki’s still-damp hair, entranced by the texture, so much coarser than his own. “I _had_  a lot of friends,” he corrects slowly. “But now I don’t. I’m alone, because I can’t stay in the ocean anymore.”

 

 

“No!” 

 

Loneliness is the most terrible thing. Chiaki can’t bear the sadness on Kanata’s face, and grabs his shoulders, tugging him into a sudden, fierce hug. “You’re not alone, Kanata! You’ll never be alone, as long as there’s breath in Morisawa Chiaki’s body. I swear it!”

 

 

Kanata blinks rapidly, going still in Chiaki’s arms before he slinks down, slowly curling himself up against Chiaki. “You’re good,” he breathes, his eyes lidding as he lets his arms drape over Chiaki’s shoulders. “You’re very good, Chiaki. Mmn, you pulled me out of the ocean, so I’m all yours.”

 

 

For someone to not pull away during one of his hugs is new, and Chiaki tightens his hold automatically, pulling Kanata in towards his chest, holding him close. “I’ll hold you to that,” he whispers. “Are you...going home tonight?”

 

 

Kanata’s head shakes slowly, and he remains contently warm and flopped in Chiaki arms. “Can’t go back to the sea. I don’t want to find another drowned body, no…it might be me next time. I’ll go where you want me to go, mm.”

 

 

“I’ll take you home, then.” Kanata has some weird speaking quirks, that’s for sure, but he’s definitely hearing that they’re going home together. “You know, I really like that you let me hold you. I’m not too loud?”

 

 

Kanata’s head shakes again. “Not loud,” he hums. “Not loud, and warm. Take me home with you. I’ll jump back in the ocean if you leave me here.”

 

 

What else is a man to do?

 

No, not a man. If Kanata needs him...doesn’t that make him a hero?

 

Well, first things first. Chiaki strips down to his basketball shorts and t-shirt, handing over his jacket and school trousers. “Here, you should be warmer on the walk home now. Oh, you don’t have shoes...here, get on my back, it’s better than cutting up your feet.”

 

Kanata blinks up at him, wide-eyed and not entirely comprehending for a moment, but then he slowly moves to take the clothes out of Chiaki’s hands and dress himself. It’s all a little big on him, with the lingering warmth and dampness of Chiaki’s body and the storm, and he shakes his hair out with a huff, sending water droplets everywhere. “Chiaki is very strong,” Kanata hums, climbing up onto his back and draping his arms over his shoulders. “Ahh...this way, I’m like a jellyfish...don’t worry, I’ll help you become immune...” 

 

“Sounds good!”

 

Chiaki isn’t really sure what Kanata means, but it feels good to carry him, like a weight that’s worth lifting. It makes him feel like if he can do this, he can do anything--hell, maybe he’ll show up to basketball team practice tomorrow. The captain’s been asking him to come by again, though he hasn’t felt up to it for a while...

 

“My house isn’t too far. Do you go to school around here? You can come with me in the morning, then. Will your folks be worried?” His own will be, if he’s much later than this.

 

Kanata nuzzles his face into Chiaki’s hair, content with the way that it drips onto him. “I’ll come wherever you want me to,” he says. “My folks...ah, you mean everyone in the sea...” He trails off, his arms tightening around Chiaki’s neck slightly. “They’re all drowned. All of them, all of them.” 

 

The sadness in that statement echoes deep in Chiaki’s chest, twisting something with a slow ache. He hikes Kanata up slightly, hands squeezing those long slender thighs. Hopefully the warmth of his body will radiate, and some of the heat will get through to the chill in the other boy’s core. “Then we’ll make you a new land family,” he promises, heading up the hill to his house. The steps start to get more difficult with all the weight, but that only makes him more determined, and he twists his head back to meet Kanata’s seafoam gaze. “It’s a promise, from Morisawa Chiaki. You won’t have to be sad anymore. I’ll smile as an example for you.”

 

Kanata blinks, and his lashes come away wet. Startling, _strange,_ when that’s not what used to happen when he cried. _But I’m on land now, so it’s this way._ “...You look so happy when you smile, Chiaki,” he murmurs, stuffing his face back down into Chiaki’s hair and breathing in deep. “Mm. Good, good, it’s fine if it’s this way. Then, in return, whatever wish you have, I’ll grant it, okay?” 

 

“A wish?”

 

Chiaki blinks, trying to process that, and laughs at himself a little. “I suppose a real Hero would wish for world peace,” he says, trying to think. “Or is that not personal enough?”

 

“...I don’t think world peace is really...” Kanata trails off, his fingers gently drumming against Chiaki’s chest where they drape. “‘Hero’...That’s a strange word...if it means that you save and protect people, you’re already doing that, so don’t wish for it, okay?” 

 

Chiaki stares at the sky, the sun slowly sinking into the horizon as he carries Kanata up the hill, feet squishing in his wet shoes. “That’s what you’re supposed to wish for, if your real wish is selfish, though.”

 

“But it’s _your_ wish, so you can be selfish.” 

 

Chiaki forces a smile--his cheeks are starting to hurt from how much he’s done it today after months of depression--and says quietly, “But I’d just wish for you to stay by my side.”

 

“All right.” 

 

Kanata beams, even if Chiaki can’t see it from how his face is pressed into his hair. “If that’s your wish, then that’s fine.” 

 

Two years later, plopped down onto a couch next to Chiaki while Ryuseitai’s three first years are sprawled out on the floor in front of the television, Kanata still longs for the sea...but it’s a dull ache, not a fresh, agonizing pain. 

 

Kanata wiggles his toes against the carpet of Chiaki’s living room. Even now, Chiaki’s weekend tokusatsu movie showings are somewhat bemusing and perplexing, but Chiaki is just so _excited_ that it can’t be helped. 

 

“I wanna die, this is the worst way to spend a weekend...”

 

“Midori, we can go out to the sea if you’re feeling bad,” Kanata hums, stretching out a foot to poke him. Midori recoils with a grumble, but at least he stops complaining. It’s just not _necessary_ , not when Chiaki’s bubble could burst at any moment. 

 

“I have snacks for everyone!” Chiaki announces, voice booming with the announcement as he leaps into the room, a bag of apples in one hand, a box of cookies from the store in the other. “Tetora, don’t eat all of them!”

 

“Aw, I won’t touch the cookies, I’m in training! Taishou would kill me.”

 

Chiaki frowns around the room, plopping the bag of apples on Midori’s lap. “Where’s Shinobu?”

 

“You really didn’t see me?” Shinobu pops up from behind the couch, elated as he leaps onto the couch arm, wobbling a little. “That’s the sign of a true ninja, de gozaru! Able to hide in plain sight!”

 

Tetora scratches his head. “Weren’t you hiding behind the couch, though? That’s not plain sight.”

 

“S-such things don’t matter to a true ninja!”

 

Chiaki flops down next to Kanata, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, then popping a cookie between his lips. “Eat, it’ll warm you up.”

 

Kanata happily takes a bite, eating the cookie out of Chiaki’s hand. “Mm, thank you, Chiaki...” he sing-songs, immediately nestling himself closer to him. “Ahh...so warm, that’s nice...” 

 

“Gross,” Midori grumbles at his apples, even as he takes one from the bag with a heaving sigh. “This is so lame...” 

 

Kanata pokes him again with his foot, but otherwise lets Midori grumble over his apples. “Look how happy they all are...it’s like they’re bubbling up from the sea, bubble, bubble~ Chiaki, you’re such a good dad, you know...” 

 

“Mm, it’s easy to be a good dad to such good children,” Chiaki agrees cheerfully. “Right, Mom?”

 

Shinobu curls up into a little ball, worming his way between Midori and the couch, picking up one of the apples and examining it. “Are these from your farm, Midori-kun? Those are the only ones I want to eat!”

 

Midori opens his mouth, then closes it again, glancing down into his lap with an awkward shrug. “Y-yeah, you can have them, then, I guess...”

 

“The best children,” Kanata hums, letting his head knock against Chiaki’s shoulder as he leans against him. He tugs one of the blankets over, idly dragging it over both of their laps, and underneath it, his fingers gingerly grasping for Chiaki’s. 

 

Chiaki twines his fingers with Kanata’s without thinking much about it, grabbing inaccurately for the remote with his left hand to turn up the volume. “No one miss this next episode! This is the one where we learn all about the Black Ranger’s backstory! It’s got a lot of good explosions, too!”

 

Tetora whispers out of the corner of his mouth to Midori and Shinobu, “If you don’t look like you’re paying attention, he’ll pause and rewind.”

 

“I really wanna die...”

 

Kanata’s foot prods at Midori’s back again, and he reluctantly resumes eating his apple and staring at the screen (with far more interest than he tries to let on). He squeezes Chiaki’s hand, a content smile on his face. “Chiaki, look, our children really do like it...” 

 

“Tokusatsu is the worst,” Midori lowly huffs. 

 

Midori’s complaints soon die down, however, and Kanata stops kicking him. _He really is just like you were,_ Kanata thinks, and fortunately, Midori has Shinobu to poke and prod and pick him up just as much as Midori needs. _Very cute, good boys._

 

Television in general lulls Kanata’s mind more often than not, and after a few more episodes (about seven), he struggles not to doze against Chiaki’s shoulder--setting a bad example for the children isn’t acceptable, after all, but then Midori starts yawning every few seconds, and Shinobu passes out against his back, and even Tetora starts to flop down onto the floor. “Chiaki,” he murmurs, turning his head to butt his face gently into his neck. “More in the morning, maybe?” 

 

“But the next episode is _really good_ ,” Chiaki protests, face falling as he realizes most of the first years are half, if not the whole way asleep. He sighs, then disentangles, trudging to the spare linen closet to grab a few futons. “Tetora, give me a hand here!”

 

Reluctantly, Tetora helps haul the futons into place, rolling Shinobu onto one of them and plopping a blanket on his head. The boy hardly seems to notice. 

 

Chiaki frowns at the closet, then groans. “Ah, shoot! Mom took some of them in for cleaning...Kanata, you can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

 

Midori flops down onto the futon as soon as it’s laid out, face down and uninterested in moving. Kanata blinks at Chiaki, his head tilting slowly to the side. “You can’t sleep on the floor,” he says matter-of-factly. “Heroes don’t do that. We’ll just share your bed. I don’t take up a lot of space, I’ll be a crab in its shell tonight, mmhm.” 

 

“I’m pretty sure Heroes sleep on the floor,” Chiaki says hesitantly, leading the way to his room. His parents are heavy sleepers, probably due to the fact that they’ve worn earplugs to sleep since he was old enough to enjoy shouting at tokusatsu shows. They wear earplugs a lot of the time, actually... “If they’re on a wilderness adventure, or fighting evil in space--there aren’t going to be soft beds everywhere, and a Hero of Justice goes wherever the injustice is, regardless of comfort!” His eyes shine, thrilled with the idea of sleeping on the floor For Justice.

 

“Mm, but if you don’t _have_ to sleep on the floor, you should be in a bed, so that you’re ready to fight For Justice the next day,” Kanata points out, languidly following after Chiaki. “So sleep in the bed, or _I’ll_ sleep on the floor. Okay, Hero?” 

 

Chiaki considers this for a moment, then finally nods. “Your logic is sound. Nice job, Ryusei Blue! We’ll share the bed for Justice!”

 

He strips off his shirt, turning back the covers on the neatly-made bed, then starting to strip down to his underwear. “You need to bathe first?”

 

Kanata faceplants into the bed, snatching up one of the pillows immediately to bury his face into. It smells like Chiaki, like his hair and like his skin, and Kanata fairly purrs about it. “I’ll just get your bed all wet if I do...less good, you can’t sleep like that...” 

 

“You’re always _sort_ of wet,” Chiaki says with a grin. He flops down hard next to Kanata, grabbing him around the waist like a body pillow. “Here, take some of myheat. Tonight was fun, right?”

 

“Mm, it’s because I’m from the sea...” Kanata sighs contently, snuggling back against Chiaki. Chiaki is broader now, far more than when they first met, and fitting against him is a natural thing, especially when their height difference is fairly miniscule. “Watching sentai with you...that’s always fun, Chiaki...I think you’ve converted Midori, he likes it a lot now...” 

 

“He’s getting better.” Chiaki smiles against Kanata’s shoulder, tugging the blanket over them both. “He just needs a reason to smile more often, like you gave me.”

 

Kanata stifles a yawn, nodding as he stuffs his face back down into the pillow. “He has you,” he sleepily says. “And Shinobu...mm...so between the two of you...” 

 

He trails off mid-sentence, swiftly dozing off in the warmth of Chiaki’s arms. 

 

It isn’t until the next morning, early, always early, that Kanata rouses. From Chiaki’s house, he can’t hear the ocean, but he can smell it, and he shifts absently, rolling slowly to nestle up against Chiaki’s back. 

 

Chiaki is so _warm._ He’s like a living furnace, banishing the chill from Kanata’s limbs, which is normally so disconcerting from any other human, but this one...the opposite. Kanata exhales a slow, soft breath as he nuzzles at the back of Chiaki’s neck, his arms winding their way around his waist. 

 

Chiaki rouses slowly, languid and content in Kanata’s hold. He stretches, then nuzzles back into Kanata’s chest. He’s different from how he used to be. Chiaki’s thought that for a while now, that Kanata smells less like the ocean, takes warmth faster, makes more sense when he talks. More importantly, he smiles more, and Chiaki smiles back over his shoulder. He tries to shift back, then realizes he’s sort of _squirming_ in Kanata’s arms, and stops, face flushed. 

 

Kanata stills for the sparsest of moments before his arms tighten gently, refusing to pull away--at least, for the moment, when he just _has_ to keep close to someone so warm. He opens his mouth to speak, then decides against it, and puts it to better use by pressing a kiss to the back of Chiaki’s neck, and pauses afterwards to gauge his reaction. 

 

Chiaki feels himself go very still. Thoughts race through his sleepy mind, information connecting, but somehow, in the morning silence, everything just makes sense. He’s had dreams like this, but the dreams were scary and confusing, and this just feels comforting, warm, soft, like the way Kanata’s voice sounds, or his smile feels. 

 

If it’s easy, it’s probably good. Chiaki turns in Kanata’s arms, and threads his hands through Kanata’s hair, pulling him close for a kiss. Somehow, he’d thought it would feel _bigger_ , his first kiss, but it’s just as warm and sweet as Kanata nuzzling at his neck, just skin touching skin, just the warmth that curls in his belly whenever Kanata is near.

 

Ahhh, good. _Good_ , he hadn’t misjudged this, like he has so many other things with humans. Not this, not with warm, brave, _sweet_ Chiaki. _Always staying at your side paid off, didn’t it?_

 

Kanata exhales a pleased sigh, and his fingers tangle up into Chiaki’s hair, tugging him forward to kiss him back with a gentle nip of his teeth. He worms his way closer, plastering himself against Chiaki, wishing he were damp from the rain or the fountain to better stick to him like glue. 

 

This might not be as startling as he’d thought, but every move of Kanata’s lips and teeth and hands encourages something to build in his belly, curling warmth that spirals out to make his toes curl. He throws a leg across Kanata’s thighs, rucks up his courage, and slips his tongue between Kanata’s lips. His mind is blessedly silent, everything reduced to physical sensations and the way Kanata’s eyes look up at him, entrancing as they’ve always been, luring him closer.

 

The noise Kanata exhales from his throat is low and rumbly as he settles down into the bed with a content wriggle, flopping onto his back and sinking underneath his weight. Kanata tips his head up to kiss back, to part his lips further, his own tongue teasingly sneaking out to brush against Chiaki’s for a proper taste. His fingers tighten into Chiaki’s hair, dragging down to the back of his neck, his nails biting in enough to make sure he doesn’t try to _escape._ _Mine, mine, mine._

 

How had it turned out like this? Chiaki is fairly sure he remembers that everyone had come over to watch tokusatsu, not to have anything like this happen.

 

Tokusatsu really _does_ make dreams come true!

 

He wriggles on top of Kanata, straddling him to plant his knees on the bed on either side of Kanata’s hips. With every breath, he surges down, pressing kisses to Kanata’s lips, sucking the full lower lip into his mouth to run his tongue across it before he nips gently. The taste of Kanata’s mouth is a heady, addictive thing, and it steals whatever thoughts try to converge before they materialize.

 

Kanata’s fingers paw their way down Chiaki’s back, his nails sinking into the solid muscle--ahh, what a good thing his nails are trimmed to what’s acceptable to humans now, long, but reasonably so, and enough to grab and pull and _cling_. Chiaki’s mouth is just as warm as the rest of him, warmer even, and the noise Kanata makes against his mouth is quiet compared to the eager thudding of his pulse that makes him arch up. 

 

Kanata’s fingernails prickling into his back make Chiaki arch, and that makes his hips rut down, sending him rubbing against the warm skin of Kanata’s hip. A whimper makes its way out of his mouth, and he leans in, biting down on Kanata’s neck when his cock presses into hard muscle. It still feels right, still feels like this is where his body is _supposed_ to be, with every slow rock.

 

A soft, ragged gasp escapes Kanata’s lips, and his head falls back, a wordless encouragement for more of the same. Mindlessly, he shoves a hand between them, grabbing at the waistband of Chiaki’s boxers. He doesn’t quite dare to drag them down yet, so his fingers skim south, against the hard outline of his cock, and his own breath stutters in his chest. 

 

Chiaki leans suddenly to the side, flicking a catch and tossing his window open, enough to hear the faint sounds of crashing waves. The sound spurs him on, and he lowers his mouth, licking and sucking at the seawater-flavored skin of Kanata’s shoulder. His fingers come up to rub over his chest, hungry for touch, desperate to taste and rub and lick and _hold_ all the more with every second. 

 

The sound of the ocean makes what’s left of Kanata’s wariness flee his mind, and he makes quick work of yanking Chiaki’s boxers down, eager to wrap his fingers around his cock.

 

Here, Chiaki is _so_ warm that it almost feels like it’s burning in his palm. Kanata pants out a hot breath, his eyes lidded and head lolling to the side to keep letting Chiaki bite and suck all he wants, especially when it’s so _easy_ to ease his own sweatpants down and arch up, letting his cock slide against Chiaki’s. His fingers shake, the coordination it takes to wrap his hand around both of them at the same time somehow escaping him, but ahh, it feels good, especially when the urge to melt underneath Chiaki is _so_ strong. 

 

Chiaki lets out a noise at last, groaning into Kanata’s neck as his hand moves to wrap around Kanata’s. Together, the fingers reach all the way around, and he ruts into the touch, warm and cool alike, squeezing and tugging and _stroking_ as he bites down into soft skin. He opens his mouth, almost says something, but Kanata’s eyes are reassuring, heated, setting him at ease. There’s nothing he _needs_ to say, and hopefully his feelings are as clear in his own eyes to Kanata.

 

His hand speeds up, working himself over, squeezing and rubbing with every brisk stroke, and he pants into Kanata’s neck, letting out a soft whimper as his climax gets closer and closer.

 

It’s much easier with Chiaki’s hand helping him, guiding him, and Kanata wriggles up against him eagerly, his hips thrusting up against that warm, _warm_ hold. It aches, almost to the point of hurting, and each breath makes his skin flush hotter, his own teeth unable to resist from sinking into Chiaki’s neck, muffling a breathless moan that’s equal parts hungry and desperate.

 

It doesn’t take long. Kanata’s grateful, because his head is so fuzzy, his body aches so much that he can’t think, and he spills with a broken whimper, clinging to Chiaki’s back, grinding up into his hand in little, thoughtless circles. Like this, Kanata feels overwarm, overstimulated, and he bites again at Chiaki’s shoulder, muffling another sound, more like a possessive growl than anything this time. 

 

Chiaki isn’t thinking.

 

That’s the only excuse he’ll have later when he flips Kanata over, rutting down between his thighs in frantic jerks, powerful thighs flexing with every drive of his hips. Kanata is so soft and welcoming, the sticky mess on his hand making him crazy with desire, the idea that Kanata had felt so _good_ _\--_

 

A second later it’s all over, with a muffled moan between Kanata’s shoulderblades, Chiaki gripping and yanking at his hips until finally he stills and flops down on top of Kanata’s back, exhaling a long breath of relief.

 

Kanata huffs into the pillow, slithering down into the bed, limp and floppy. His fingers curl into the pillow, little kneading motions accompanying it, and he wriggles back half-heartedly, appreciating the way it feels with Chiaki behind him, his softening cock still between his thighs. Yes, this is good. He can still taste the way Chiaki’s skin had felt against his tongue, and he licks at his lower lip, turning his head to nudge it against Chiaki’s lightly, and he contemplates taking another bite, just for a _second._

 

Finally, Chiaki’s heart rate returns to normal, and he flops down to the bed, tugging Kanata against him. Still, the terror and nerves he’s expecting don’t come. How could he be afraid, when it’s Kanata? 

 

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice husky and low, and he threads a hand through Kanata’s hair, softly petting him. 

 

It takes effort not to bite now that he’s thinking about it, but...well, now Chiaki is petting him, so it seems less appropriate. Instead, Kanata heaves a long, content sigh, and immediately snuggles up to him, draping all of his limbs around him. “Good morning, Hero,” he hums. “That was nice, right?” 

 

Chiaki nods, a little oddly shy now. “Almost as nice as the way you call me Hero,” he says, twisting a runaway strand of Kanata’s hair around one finger. “Like you’re not even teasing me.”

 

Kanata blinks up at him slowly. “I’m not,” he honestly says. “You pulled me from the ocean, and saved me. So you’re a hero first like that, and then just one in general, Ryusei Red.” He gives Chiaki’s chest a little pat. “You’re even warmer now, after we...” 

 

“Mm, yeah.” Chiaki smiles, a little more confident when Kanata pats him. He leans down to kiss Kanata’s cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose, laughing a little at himself. “Thanks for letting me share my heat, Ryusei Blue. I always kind of knew you’d taste like the ocean.”

 

“Like seaweed,” Kanata agrees sagely, lurching up to steal a kiss full on Chiaki’s mouth. “Or maybe eel. But you like that.” 

 

“I do!” Chiaki presses a deliberate kiss to Kanata’s lips, then moves down to swipe his tongue over one shoulder, then the dip at his neck, then just over his sternum. “A little more briny here,” he says seriously. “Should I keep checking?” He should have known that with Kanata, this would be more fun than scary.

 

“Mmnn, maaaybe...” Kanata pets a hand through Chiaki’s hair, ruffling and mussing it as he flops back, pleased about being essentially _sampled._ “When you do that, it makes me want to bite you,” he adds bluntly. “I wonder what you’d taste like, if I actually ate you a little...hmm...” 

 

“Not sure!” Chiaki dips his tongue into the hollow at Kanato’s hip, then rests his chin on his belly, blinking up at him. If Kanata were his girlfriend, he’s pretty sure he’d know what to do--but he’d also be a lot more nervous, he thinks. This just feels easy, as if Kanata is his good friend that’s awesome enough to kiss him and touch him, the one he holds hands with under a blanket, the one he cuddles up with in the middle of the night, the one he swore to protect for his whole life. “You ever think about that promise we made? The day we met?”

 

“All the time,” Kanata admits easily, slowly petting Chiaki’s hair, unable to stop himself from touching it when it feels so soft underneath his fingers. “It’s one of those things that just bubbles up in my mind, you know? Bubble, bubble~...” He flutters his fingers against Chiaki’s head lightly. “Every time I see you.” 

 

“Do you ever think...” Chiaki nuzzles against Kanata’s hip, drumming his fingers on one pale thigh. “I think sometimes that you’re not human,” he says suddenly, instead of whatever else he was going to say. “But that’s crazy, right?”

 

“Oh, no. No, no, no, you’re not crazy. I came from the ocean, after all!” 

 

Chiaki folds his hands on Kanata’s belly, resting his chin on them. “Like a mermaid.” He says it calmly, almost matter-of-fact, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to suspect one of your good friends of being a mermaid.

 

“Mm,” Kanata agrees, smiling down at him, entirely unfazed. He smoothes some of Chiaki’s fly-aways down, just to watch them pop right back up again. “Just like that.” 

 

“Well. That’s all right, then, isn’t it?” Chiaki is pretty sure it’s all right. “Why don’t you go home? You miss it, right? I don’t want you to be sad.”

 

“I miss it,” Kanata says with a small nod before his head flops back down onto his pillow. “But, ah...I can’t go home. That’s how it is. I thought I would be really sad forever, but you’re here, so being on land with you is scary, but not bad.” 

 

“...If you want to go home,” Chiaki says seriously, “I’ll find a way to help you. That’s what a Hero would do, right?”

 

“Chiaki is very sweet, but I already made a promise.” Kanata gently swats the top of his head. “And I granted your wish, which makes me the happiest. So, I’m here.” He pauses, and adds after a moment’s though, “Also, I’m going to add another aquarium to the school, so all of my sea friends will be there even more.” 

 

Chiaki lets out a sigh of relief, then climbs up and presses a swift kiss to Kanata’s mouth. “Good. I’d be _really_ sad if you left. You’re my reason to smile, you know?”

 

“And Chiaki is mine,” Kanata cheerfully agrees, grabbing for Chiaki to kiss him again. “So let’s make it stay that way, okay?” 

 

 

 


End file.
